


I Hate Vampires, but the Hunters Aren't So Bad

by jailikechai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demons, Gen, M/M, Third Party POV, Vampires, outside pov, pre-apocalypse/season 5, technically pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jailikechai/pseuds/jailikechai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judith thinks she's left her supernatural past behind, but the universe has other plans. When vampires attack, she finds herself mixed up with a giant with perfect hair, a green-eyed heartthrob, and green-eyes' awkward angel boyfriend. Dealing with vampires, demons, angels, hunters and a looming apocalypse is not what she wanted, but the universe doesn't care, so now she just has to survive.</p>
<p>A day in the life of the Winchesters as seen through the eyes of an innocent(?) bystander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate Vampires, but the Hunters Aren't So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to revise some original fiction I'm working on, and this just sort of happened instead. It's set in the same 'verse that I write a lot of my original work in. It's not what I expected, but it was an absolute blast to write. Totally un-beta'd and mostly unrevised.
> 
> It's set vaguely early Season 5 in the Supernatural timeline.
> 
> The relationship between Dean & Castiel is definitely commented on, but is not the focus of this story, so if you're looking for something slash-y, this fic is not it. (Technically it's pre-slash, but just like in the show, it's so painfully obvious they're in love that any outsider watching would just assume they're together.)
> 
> The "gnarl" monsters are an homage to Gnarl, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S7E3: Same Time, Same Place), the creepy demon that tries to eat Willow's skin.

Motherfucking vampires.

Thanks, universe, that’s exactly what my life needs right now, some motherfucking vampires.

Vampires are way above my pay grade - I’m not fucking Buffy. What are vampires doing in Boston anyway?

I splash some cold water on my face and lean over the sink, trying to even out my breathing. I _do not_ like dead bodies. Not that I have much experience with corpses - the last one I had to deal with was my mother’s.

I worry that they’re here because of me. But, no, think logically, that doesn’t make sense. The ones that got Mom are dead, and no vampire would track _me_ all the way across the country, that would be stupid. So, just convenience then. Drunken college students, easy targets.

It just seems like the death rate around here is way higher than normal. I _know_ that some of those deaths are not natural, but what the hell am I supposed to do about it?

I feel like I should be doing something about it.

I look up at myself in the mirror. Hair, ok, not much more I can do about the frizz, but that’s normal. Eyes, a little puffy, but not too red, maybe if you look really hard you can tell I’ve been crying. I’m a little pale, but I don’t think that I look too much like I’ve been emptying my stomach into a toilet for the past twenty minutes after seeing a dead body. I don’t think it’s going to get much better than this.

I sigh and exit the bathroom.

People are still just standing around in the hallway, like lost sheep or something. Nobody is even talking, or anything. People are weird. I can feel their eyes on me, but my door is just right there, a few more steps ought to do it…

“Oh, there she is,” a voice says. “Judith!”

Today is not my lucky day. I try not to sigh too loudly as I turn around to face Tina, the crappiest RA to ever grace the halls of a college dorm. Tina and - crap, I should have spent more time in the bathroom trying to fix the frizz, because that might be the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.

Oh god, he’s tall. I think the top of my head is about level with his shoulder. I have to look up. And, wow, those arms are not joking around. Even under the suit. His hair is _perfect_ , which makes me feel way worse about my frizz. His eyes are hazel.

His smile looks a little concerned, so I don’t really want to think about whatever expression is on my face right now. I hope I’m not drooling.

“Agent Carver,” he introduces himself, flashing a badge. “Do you have a minute?”

“I already talked to the police,” I hear myself saying, while at the same time mentally punching myself. This Adonis is asking me to sit alone in a room with him for who knows how long and talk to him. Ok, talk to him about dead bodies, but still.

I want to talk to a boy about dead bodies, and I am the most inappropriate person to walk the face of the earth, what is wrong with me.

“FBI,” he explains. “We’re following up in an ongoing investigation.”

That makes sense, I guess. There’s got to be more than one vampire kill in the area, and that would make people think serial killer, which would be FBI stuff, I think. According to TV.

“I’d just like to ask you a few questions, if that’s ok -” his voice rises at the end of his sentence in a question.

“Judith,” I say, good for me for sounding smooth and remembering my name. “Judith Wolveson.”

“Judith,” he nods. “If we could go somewhere a little more private?” He glances around at the sheep-people still standing by their doors, watching the show. I can see a few girls gaping at the gorgeous agent, and a few more giving me dirty, jealous glares. I try not to smirk.

Inappropriate, I remind myself. Dead bodies.

“Sure.” I lead him down to the end of the hallway, where there is a little study room. The door is glass, so it’s not exactly private, but it’s better than just standing around in the middle of a dorm hallway.

Agent Carver sits down in one of the chairs at the table - not the loveseat, damn it - which puts his head closer to level with mine. He must condition his hair, he is so lucky to be able to get it that smooth.

I sit down across from him.

“So, Judith, you found the body?”

“Yeah. I was just getting home from the library, and I took the stairs because it’s just so lazy to take the elevator to the second floor, and there she was.” The words just sort of spill out in a jumble, and I try to sound matter of fact - I’ve told this story a few times already tonight - but I can’t stop my voice from quavering a little. I try even harder not to let my head flash back to the sight of Jenny Prado’s lifeless body, drained of blood and peppered with marks from sharp teeth, sprawled across the bottom of the stairs. I think she had just been tossed down after she was dead.

“Did you notice anything - odd - about the body?”

Ok, direct. The other cops had asked me about what I had been doing before, exactly what I saw at the scene, et cetera. Procedural type questions. Not just jumping to the body itself. My eyes narrow a little.

“Um, odd?” I’m stalling. What exactly can I say that doesn’t scream vampire attack?

“Marks,” Agent Carver was saying, “any strange coloring, or odors.”

Marks? _Smells_?

“Maybe bite marks?” he added cautiously.

Understanding slammed into me.

“Oh, shit, you’re a hunter.” I want to clap my hands over my mouth, or rewind a few seconds to stop those words from leaving my mouth. Too late.

‘Agent’ Carver’s eyes had already snapped up to my face, hard and suspicious.

I am saved by a cell phone ring from his pocket. He glances around the room, taking in the fact that the windows are too high and too small to be viable escape routes, and there is only one door.

He steps out that door, leaning on it and keeping his eyes on me through the glass as he answers the phone. I am suddenly not so eager to be held under the gaze of those warm hazel eyes. I’ve seen what hunters can do.

But at least I have a few seconds to regroup and think of something to say that won’t sound even more suspect.

He chats for just a minute with the person at the end of the line, before returning to his seat across from me. He folds his hands on top of the table, and studies my face. I don’t meet his eyes and hope that doesn’t make me look suspicious.

“So,” he says slowly. “What do you know about hunters?”

The best lies are rooted in truth.

I keep my voice soft and my eyes down. “My mother was killed by vampires.”  My voice catches in my throat, and that is not a lie at all. “I was twelve.”

His expression goes soft all at once.

“Oh.” He shifts a little in his chair, uncomfortable now. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” We are both quiet for a little while, a small moment of silence for the dead.

“Those vampires were killed.” That is the truth. I don’t have to mention that it wasn’t hunters who killed them.  “And when I saw Jenny -” I swallow, hard. “When I saw the _body_ , I recognized the teeth marks. And the whole no blood thing.”

He is nodding.

“Ok,” is all he says, voice soft. His eyes are sad; they are so expressive. I wonder who he lost.

“Where there’s -” I gulp again, “vampires, there’s usually hunters, right? Just kind of put two and two together. You know, your hair is way too long to actually be an FBI agent.” I am babbling a little now.

Mr. Perfect-hair places a giant hand over both of mine, comforting. It shuts me up, at least. He stands up carefully and holds the door open for me.

“I am really sorry,” he says earnestly, “and thanks for your help.”

“If there’s anything else I can do to help,” I tell him, looking up as I duck past him and cursing my mouth that isn’t functioning on the same wavelength as my brain. Hunters. Killers. No. My mouth keeps going, “Just let me know. You know where to find me.” I gesture around vaguely at the dorm.

He smiles at me. I feel my ovaries explode. Over a hunter. Fuck.

“Will do.”

~~

The next day is Saturday, so I have an early shift at the diner. Maybe another boss would have given me the day off because of the whole dead body situation, but Rick just starts grilling me on the gory details of the crime scene as soon as I walk in. He’s sick. I’m not as affected by the whole thing as I might have expected, though, and tying on my apron and grabbing the coffee pot are a welcome distraction.

Until I step around the booth at the end of the diner and see a giant with silky hair and hazel eyes leaning in to talk earnestly with the person across the table.

The universe is definitely messing with me.

I realize I am just standing and staring when ‘Agent Carver’ - I realize I don’t actually know his name - glances over at me. His eyes go as wide as mine, which is impressive.

“Oh,” he says, “hey.”

“Hey.” Smooth.

The other man at the table follows his companion’s gaze and turns to look. Ok, I thought the first one was bad, how is it possible that two men who look like they fell straight from heaven are somehow friends and sitting in my diner? That is not ok.

New guy has these _lips_ , and these _green eyes_ , and I’m pretty sure his face is perfectly symmetrical. I just read an article online about symmetrical faces being the most attractive. He is frowning at me, but that might make him even hotter, if that’s even possible.

I might be fantasizing about skipping out on the rest of my shift and taking one home with me. Maybe both of them - they might be into that. I saw the intense way they were talking before.

“And, uh,” Green-eyes says, his smoky sex-voice shaking me out of my glazed-over daydream, “who is this?”

“Judith,” Perfect-hair replies. “We met last night. She’s the one who found the body.”

Those green eyes narrow even further.

“Let me get you some coffee,” I manage to squeak out, and walk away quickly before Green-eyes can say anything. I realize I am holding the coffee pot. I need a minute.

Rick is giving me a nasty look from his position in the back. I take a deep breath and pull myself together. Work. Right.

I paste on a fake smile and walk back to the booth, still holding the coffee pot that I never put down. I almost drop it when I see a _third_ man at the table. When did he even get there? I don’t think I saw the door open, but then again, I’m a little distracted. He must be hot in that trenchcoat; it’s almost summer.

Also, the universe is really trying to rub it in my face that apparently hotness attracts more hotness, because Trenchcoat-guy is as please-strip-down-right-now-and-let-me-fuck-you-gorgeous as the other two. He is sitting intimately close to Green-eyes and staring at the man’s face intently. Yeah, I’m pretty sure _those_ eyes aren’t even real, because they don’t make human eyes that color blue.

Also, I’m pretty sure that I’m out of the picture, Green-eyes is clearly already taken.

“Look, I’m not saying that it wasn’t a vampire, but there is something else going on here,” Green-eyes is saying. Perfect-hair lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m not saying there’s not, it just doesn’t seem,” Perfect-hair gestures, “apocalyptic.”

“So, what, we should just forget about it and leave these people at the mercy of vampires?”

“I agree with Sam,” Trenchcoat-guy says. Green-eyes turns his head to glare at his boyfriend.

I realize I am just standing there oggling again when Christy tries to shove me out of the way to get at the table, order pad and pencil in hand. I manage to grab her arm and pull her back.

“I got it,” I hiss. Christy gives me an epic bitch-face.

“Get it together, Judith. Table six looks pissed and I am _not_ covering for you.” She gestures over at an elderly couple glaring at me from a few booths back.

I turn back to the table-of-overflowing-hotness in front of me to confront three sets of curious stares. I paste my fake smile back on and pour coffee, trying to ignore the gazes and act casual and not like I was mentally undressing all three of them second before.

“I’ll be back in a minute to take your order,” I say automatically, my voice way too cheerful.

Green-eyes points at my retreating back and leans over the table to whisper at Perfect-hair, “And what about _her_?”

Trenchcoat-guy’s otherworldly blue eyes follow me with a solemn frown. I’m pretty sure they can see all the way into my soul and that thought makes me very, very uncomfortable.

I fake-smile through the old woman at table six’s lecture and mutters about manners and ‘kids these days’ while I take the couple’s order.

A young couple struggle with their rambunctious toddler while I clean up their empty plates and try not to grimace at the splatters of food crusted all over the table.

A fellow student with notes and textbooks spread out over the entire table waves me over for refill on coffee.

I set two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of two middle aged women who give me quick smiles before returning to their rather loud gossip about a third woman who is not present.

Finally, I circle back around to the booth in the back.

“What can I get you?” I ask, pulling out my pad and pencil.

Perfect-hair smiles at me. My heart drops directly into my stomach at the sight of those hazel eyes that look entirely too innocent and maybe a little pleading.

“Hey, remember what you said last night? About helping out?” Direct to the point. Apparently they had come to some kind of agreement while I was making my rounds to the other tables.

“Yeah?” My heart is still in my stomach, but now it’s beating hard and squeezing my stomach into nervous knots. Why the hell did I say that last night?

“I’m Sam,” Perfect-hair gestures at himself, “and my brother, Dean,” he waves at Green-eyes, “and, uh,” he looks over at Green-eyes’ boyfriend, who is leaning in a little possessively towards Green-eyes and glaring at me.

“Cas,” Green-eyes - Dean - offers grumpily. He obviously still has his doubts about me.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees quickly. “We could use your help. We really need to take care of these vampires quick, and,” he shrugs to finish the sentence. Wow, cute. Who knew giants could be that adorable. But it’s a weak excuse, and he knows it, and I know it. They’re _hunters_ and they’re _investigating_ me. They could _kill_ me.

Those pleading puppy-dog eyes make up for it.

“I get off at eleven,” I find myself saying, my mouth again not communicating with my brain. “In the meantime, can I get you something to eat?”

Sam orders oatmeal and a side of fruit, and Dean orders the same pancakes, eggs, and bacon special as the middle-aged ladies. Cas just stares at me.

As I turn away to put the order in to the kitchen, I see Cas leaning even further in to Dean, their shoulders pressing together as Cas mumbles something quietly to the other man. Dean frowns.

I am so screwed.

~~

Sam and Dean are waiting outside the diner when my shift ends. Sam is frowning at a small book, and Dean is chewing on an over-full mouthful of some kind of snack food. Didn’t he just eat the breakfast special, like, an hour ago? The chipmunk cheeks and loud chewing don’t even decrease his attractiveness, a fact that is _not fair_.

They pull themselves up when they see me.

“Hey, so we were thinking -” Sam starts off right away, direct as ever.

I can’t help but cut him off with a groan, rubbing my neck and rolling the kinks out of my neck. Sam stops and looks at me.

“Sorry, it’s been a long morning,” I explain. Sam looks apologetic. ‘Adorable’ goes through my mind again. “I’d like to go home and change, at least, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Sam stutters.

Dean swallows his mouthful and falls into step beside me as I start towards my dorm. He gives me a grin - I thought his frown was beautiful, but it’s got nothing on his smile - but the grin is overly charming and undoubtedly meant to throw me off guard.

“So, you know about monsters and shit,” Dean says conversationally. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Sam giving him a bitch-face that rivals Christy’s. Probably a reaction to Dean’s lack of subtlety.

“My mom was killed by vampires,” I repeat cautiously. I glance over at Dean. His grin is still charming, and his eyes still suspicious, but there is something behind that look, too. Something that I saw in Sam’s eyes last night as well.

I realize that it’s the look of someone who _knows_. Someone who has lost a loved one to the supernatural. I wonder again who they lost.

“And you just,” Dean waves a hand, “happen to run across another vampire attack? They’re not exactly all that common.”

“I was kind of worried they were after me,” I admit, even though it’s an incredibly stupid thing to say. Maybe if I say something so obviously incriminating it will throw suspicion off of me.

“And why would they be after you?” Dean lifts an eyebrow at me.

Sam frowns, adding, “You said the vamps that got your mother were killed.”

“They were.” They were beheaded and torn apart and burned. “I was just being stupid and paranoid.”

“It’s never paranoia when you’re a hunter,” Sam mutters quietly.

“So that’s how you got into hunting? Going after the vamps that got your mom,” Dean asks.

Shit, they think I’m a _hunter_? I almost laugh at the idea. I suppose thinking I’m a hunter is better than thinking I’m a monster.

“Oh god, no.” My horror definitely shows on my face. “I want to stay as far away from those freaks as I can.” That’s most certainly true. I notice Dean relaxes just a little.

“You’re not a hunter?” Sam sounds surprised.

“Hell no. Like I said, vampires and hunters kind of go together, right? One vampire attack in my life was more than enough.” I think for a minute. “Or two, I guess.”

“Not a hunter.” Dean nods. “Good.”

“Sorry, the last vampire hunter we met was kind of,” Sam trails off, searching for the right words.

“A giant douchebag,” Dean finishes.

“So you’re just,” Sam trails off again, with a look at me. Can’t that man finish a sentence?

“A college student. Trying to live a normal, safe life, no fucking monsters welcome, thanks.” I finish his sentence this time. I snort. “The universe just hates me.”

Sam’s eyes fill with sympathy and understanding, and Dean looks away. I obviously touched on some kind of sore spot between the two.

“But now, it’s not exactly like I can sit back and do nothing when something like this drops in my lap. You know. Since I know.” I shrug helplessly.

“Yeah, I know.” There’s weight behind Sam’s words.

“So, uh, what about you?” That’s an insensitive question, I realize, but I really do want to know.

Sam looks down. “Our mom was killed, too.”

Oh. Yeah, insensitive.

We reach the dorm.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I assure the two men, scanning my key card and ducking inside quickly, stranding them outside the door that locks behind me. My chest unclenches with a little space between me and the two hunters slash underwear models. Cold shower is probably a good idea.

I grab shower stuff and clean clothes from my room and head to the bathroom. I hear quiet sobs coming from inside the bathroom. Gina’s latest boyfriend probably broke up with her, I think. But when I enter the bathroom, I don’t see a weeping Gina, but Celia, curled up into a little ball under the sink, clutching her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth while desperate little gasps and sobs escape from her throat. Her eyes are locked on something on the other side of the room. I turn to look, my chest too tight to draw in a breath.

It’s Angela, Celia’s girlfriend. She is naked. And dead. Definitely dead. I don’t look any closer than that.

I drop my things and pull Celia up off the floor. I walk her down the hall to her room, and thankfully the door is open. She is shaking, in shock, and I need to get her to a doctor and call the police. Instead, I sit her down on her bed, stroke her hair and tell her not to move, then tear down the hallway, down the stairs, and rip open the doors of the building.

Dean points at me, angry, and opens his mouth.

“You need to come up, now,” I say first.

The two brothers exchange a look and follow me without another word. I lead them to the bathroom.

The minute they see Angela’s body, I can _see_ the change in their stance. These are hunters, I am reminded forcefully. This is their job.

Sam crouches down next to the body, and Dean inspects the room.

“Dean, look at this,” Sam calls. “These marks, they look like what we found on the other two victims, right?”

Two victims - they are following a trail.

Dean glances down.

“Yeah, looks like. What kind of vampire kills in the middle of the morning?”

“Not so sure it is a vampire. If you take into account the killings from last week.”

“I thought we decided that was a different case.”

“I’m not so sure, now. I was reading this morning -” Sam is cut off by a loud scream.

I look around. It is Gina this time, standing in the bathroom door, screaming her head off. Then she runs.

“Shit,” Dean spits out. He grabs my arm and hauls me out of the bathroom. “Is there a back door?”

I manage to point as I’m manhandled down the hallway.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, keeping my voice quiet since Dean clearly does not want to attract attention and I definitely don’t want to piss him off.

“If the cops catch you, they’re going to take you in for questioning for being first on the scene in two murders.” His green eyes are hard and suspicious again as he looks down at me. “And I am not letting you get away.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’ll handle it.” Dean’s voice is final.

We make good time to the edge of campus. When we make it to a street in front of a row of old brownstones, Dean pulls open the door of a hulking black car pulled up to the curb. My brother would flip if he could see this car, it’s pretty sweet and I know absolutely zero about cars. Dean throws me into the back seat and locks the door behind me.

“Dean.”

Cas is back. Geez, how does he do that? Their eyes meet. It’s that same look Cas had back in the diner, possessive and longing and proud and fierce, except doubled, because it’s in _both_ of their eyes. I almost want to make a comment about inappropriate public displays of affection, and that’s just from a _look_. I don’t, because I’m locked in the back of a car with two hunters outside.

“Cas?”

The staring is weird. Can’t they just hug, or kiss, or even just _smile_ like normal people?

Cas’s eyes flicker over to me. Again, I feel like his eyes aren’t even seeing my body, but looking at something deeper, beyond. I hope he can’t read my thoughts.

“She is not responsible for this,” Cas says flatly. Dean’s eyebrows twitch a little.

“You sure?” is all he says.

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

That’s it? After all the suspicious eyes, and questions, and fucking locking me in the back of his car, this guy says one word and Dean accepts it just like that?

Dean leans back against the car and folds his arms.

“Do you have an idea what it is?” Dean asks. Cas frowns. It seems like that’s the only facial expression he can make, so he just uses it for everything.

“I believe so,” the blue-eyed man says, and Dean’s phone rings, cutting him off.

“Hang on, that’s Sam.” Dean answers the phone.

As Dean exchanges words with his brother, it occurs to me that I am still locked in the back of a car with two hunters outside. I tap on the window and the two men turn to look at me. Did they, what, forget that I was here? Seriously? They were just talking about me, like, two seconds ago. Dean hangs up the phone and pulls the car door open.

“Hey, sorry,” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

“Um, yeah.” Is there an appropriate thing to say to a guy who just kidnapped you? I back away. Now is a really good time to get out of here. “So, uh…”

Cas fixes his stare at me. How the hell does Dean stare right back at him, those eyes are like lasers. In the literal, may damage your retinas way.

“I still think you can help in finding the creature who did this,” Cas’s gravelly voice states cooly. His statement pins me down. Ok, I guess immediate escape is off the table.

“Yeah, and, uh,” Dean glances at me, but doesn’t meet my eyes, “You’re kind of on the run from the cops.”

“I’m _what_?” That came out a lot higher pitched than I intended.

“Sam said that your friends spilled about you being on the scene and, uh, taking off before the cops got there, so now they really want you for questioning.”

“Fuck this, I’m turning myself in.” I’ll take cops over hunters any day. Added bonus of no vampires, or whatever monster this is, in jail.

“Wait a minute.” Dean grabs my arm. “Sam can talk you out of this, and,” he squares his shoulders, “he’s not wrong about you being able to help us.”

I’m losing my mind. Fuck my life.

~~

So somehow these three men have managed to find the crappiest motel in Cambridge. What an accomplishment. And they’ve apparently been here a while, judging by the piles of papers, scattered books, and stockpile of motherfucking _weapons._  

I toe the grimy carpet. Seriously, how could anyone stay here for even one night?

Sam is back and has assured me several times that he can totally talk me out of an arrest, and has apologized several more for getting me into trouble in the first place.

Those puppy-dog eyes are damn effective.

“So, Cas, what’s the deal?” Dean asks, leaning back in a chair that looks like its legs may or may not break off at any moment. He looks up at his boyfriend, that expectant little half-smile on his face warming my heart. Cas stands awkwardly, arms hanging limply by his sides, looking out of place and a little uncomfortable. Dean’s gaze seems to steady him a little.

“The killings appear to be related to the rise of Merihem, a demon of pestilence,” Cas states.

“Pestilence, like the Horseman?” Dean cocks an eyebrow at him. Cas nods.

“It would appear so, yes,” Cas nods.

“Ha!” Dean points at Sam triumphantly. “See, Sammy, apocalypse!”

Since when is _apocalypse_ a good thing?

“So not a vampire or a gnarl,” Sam questions.

“It is likely that either a vampire or a gnarl, or perhaps both, is responsible for the deaths,” Cas replies.

“Wait, you just said it was this Merihem guy,” Dean says.

Cas looks at him, tilts his head to one side, and frowns. “I said it was related to the rising of Merihem.”

“So, we’ve got vampires and gnarls trying to raise a demon?” Sam concludes.

Cas frowns again - yup, go-to, all-purpose expression. “Yes. That appears to be the situation.”

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

I am confused, but I know enough to recognize that demons, vampires, and hunters all in the same conversation is not where I want to be. I steadily edge my way to the door. College. Life. No motherfucking vampires. No hunters. Nope.

Sam sighs.

“Right, so, Judith.”

I freeze. Not quite to the door, damn it. I lift my hands in surrender.

“Yeah, guys, I think I changed my mind about getting involved in whatever it is you’ve got going on here.” I never wanted to be involved in whatever it is going on here in the first place.

“Oh, god, we wouldn’t ask you to.” Sam sounds truly horrified at the thought. I melt a little. That man is doing things to me. “Just, if we’re hunting vampires, it helps to, you know, get a lay of the land. Maybe you know some places they might stake out as hunting grounds. That’s all, I swear.”

“That’s not what I-” Cas starts to say quietly.

“Oh.” I cut him off without really thinking about it and rack my brains, trying to come up with something fast so I can get out of here. I remember what I thought after the first attack. “There’s, uh, Macky’s? It’s a bar down by the Charles that a lot of students like to go to. Vampires would probably be into drunk college kids, right?”

“Sounds like a party,” Dean comments. “Let’s check it out.”

“I don’t think -”

“Great, have fun.” I cut off Cas’ shaky start to a sentence again, and start edging towards the door.

Sam gives me another sympathetic look. “You, uh, should probably lay low for a while. Until I can smooth things over with the police.”

I close my eyes and groan. I forgot about the police. My life seriously sucks ass right now. I eye a bed cautiously. I didn’t exactly sleep great last night, and I had an early morning, and a long shift at work, and I didn’t get to shower, and, you know, vampires, and hunters, and, apparently, an apocalypse. Even a crappy motel bed is starting to look kind of nice right now.

I flop down on the bed, not even bothering to take off my shoes, and pull a pillow over my head.

“I’m taking a nap,” I announce. None of the men in the room protest.

I dream about blood and corpses.

~~

It’s almost dark when I wake up. I feel gross and not rested at all.

Across the room, Cas leans over Dean’s shoulder, his cheek grazing the tips of Dean’s cropped hair, as Dean points to something in a book laid out on the table in front of them. I hear the low rumble of Cas’ voice, but can’t quite make out the words. Dean turns his head a little to glance at the man leaning over him. Cas matches the movement to catch his eye, and Dean responds by smiling and rolling his shoulder back, shifting in his seat so they are directly face to face, noses almost touching.

I cough, pointedly.

The look up sharply, surprised.

“Judith,” Cas says with his trademark frown, pointing out the obvious.

“Do you guys need a minute?” I have to ask. I definitely feel like I intruded on something.

“What?” Dean says at the same time as Cas says, “No.”

Their eyes flicker towards each other, green meeting blue in a stare that lasts for only seconds, but is just as intense as the ones that last for minutes. And is just as uncomfortable to witness.

“Judith!” Sam saves me. “You’re up.” He steps through the motel room door, carrying a can of Coke.

I grunt in response. Not very polite, or attractive. I’m starting to not care. I pull myself out of bed, moaning a little when my spine cracks.

My reflection in the mirror looks worse than the last time I checked. My hair frizz is way out of control, and there are dark circles underneath my red eyes. Also, I’m very hungry.

“Hey, Sam, Cas thinks he found a way to neutralize gnarl poison without killing it,” Dean ignores me and waves at the book he and Cas were leaning over a few minutes ago. “Something about harpy claws.”

My stomach growls to emphasize my point about being hungry. Sam gives Dean a bitch-face and turns his complete attention to me.

“Can we buy you dinner, Judith? It’s the least we can do.” Sam sounds so sincere that I almost accept.

“I will look for more demonic signs,” Cas announces awkwardly. And that’s when Cas _disappears_. With a little pop of displaced air and a small whooshing sound.

I blink, and swallow. Because this isn’t weird enough already.

“Oh. Uh.” Sam stutters. “Did we mention that Cas is an angel? 

Oh, ok.

Totally not ok, but my brain is not working.

My stomach gives another grumble. Hungry. I think I can deal with hungry.

“Did you talk with the police?” I ask Sam.

“Yeah, they’re not going to arrest you or anything, but-” I hold up a hand to cut him off.

“I don’t care. See you later.” By which I mean never again. Thankfully, the brothers don’t protest or try to follow when I walk out.

“C’mon, Sammy, we should check out that bar,” I hear Dean sigh as I move away. 

~~

There’s a little pizza place a few blocks away that does good calzones.

I am munching on one - spinach and mushroom, lots of cheese, hot from the oven - when I hear the sirens. 

Nope. Not touching that. I’m already over my limit for the day.

So, of course I end up right in front of a burning building that used to be Macky’s Bar and Grille.

Firefighters are already there, and the blaze looks mostly contained. I can hear a crash as a floor collapses inside. The street is filled with grim spectators. Some of them have their phones out, taking video. It’s morbid. I look away.

A flicker of movement in a nearby alley catches my gaze. Two tall, familiar-looking shapes, long hair, bow-legs, a hint of plaid, are creeping away. What the fuck, universe? I can’t get a break here?

Then I notice the third figure. Not familiar. The first two don’t even see him, and, fuck, he’s got a gun.

My hands fly up before I can stop myself. The unfamiliar man slams into the wall. The two brothers turn at the sound, Sam has a knife in the man before I can blink, and orange sparks are shivering over the dead body. Dean has a gun pointed at my head.

I don’t think I can stop a bullet.

Shit, dead guy was not alone. Sam knifes the girl quickly, but the second man bolts up a fire escape while his companion dies.

The gun never stops aiming for me.

More footsteps are approaching from behind me. This is my worst nightmare.

“C’mon, Dean, let’s go,” Sam shouts. He tries to wave Dean away. 

Those green eyes remain fixed on me and the gun never wavers as Dean quickly strides up to me and I appear to be broken somehow because I’m not moving an inch. A hand comes up and something slams into my head and -

~~

I’m back in the crappy motel room. Except this time I’m tied to a chair. I really hope that the wobbly chair legs hold up, because if they collapse, that will be really uncomfortable. Not that I’m comfortable now. You know, because of the whole being tied to a chair thing.

I am unbelievably stupid. I am beyond stupid. I might be the stupidest person on the planet. How did I let myself get suckered in by perfect hair, and nice arms, and green eyes, and sex voice? How did I think that vampire attacks were something that I should get involved with? How did I believe that hunters would just let me go on my way without a word, think that they might even help me?

Speaking of, green-eyes-and-sex-voice is sitting on the edge of the bed directly in front of me. At least I’ll have something pretty to look at when I die.

“Good,” Dean says when he sees my eyes are open. “What are you and where is Merihem?”

“What.” Bad answer, but I don’t really have an answer for the actual question.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Dean growls.

Sam leans over to peer at me. The threat that I had seen in his eyes back when he was questioning me - jesus, that was only yesterday - is back.

“You’re not a demon, and the trick with tossing that guy into a wall isn’t exactly party trick,” Sam tells me. He doesn’t need to tell me, I already fucking know that. “So, what are you?”

“I’m human.”

“Bullshit,” Dean snaps.

“Why would a human want to summon Merihem?” Sam adds.

There is a pop of air, and a whoosh, and a deep voice, sounding infinitely more tired than the last time I heard it, says, “I told you she is not responsible for this.”

Talk about party tricks. Cas is standing next to Dean, still seated on the bed, the angel’s fingertips almost brushing Dean’s shoulder.  Dean just turns his head to look at his boyfriend, unfazed, and Cas does the same, their eyes meeting in that weird, uncomfortable stare.

Dean stand and grabs the blue-eyed man’s shoulders and looks him over with a scowl. Cas doesn’t look great - his trenchcoat is scuffed up and a little charred in places, his face smudged with soot, and his hair practically plastered down with ash and grime.

“Cas,” Dean’s voice drops with concern.

“I am fine.” Cas shrugs him off, but turns his head a little to meet Dean’s eyes again, and his face moves into, holy shit, a new expression that is definitely not a frown. Also definitely not a smile, but still, new expression. Dean’s face goes a little dopey in response.

“Merihem was a bit… more… than I anticipated, however,” Cas admits.

“What about her?” Sam nods to me, ignoring the interaction between his brother and his brother’s boyfriend. He must have a lot of practice, the way those two are around each other.

Cas drags his eyes away from Dean and looks at me.

“Judith was not involved with the raising of Merihem.”

“Bullshit. Some girl just shows up with two dead bodies, and then just happens to show up again when a powerful demon rises from the depths of hell? _And_ she has some kind of freaky mind-control powers? Shit like that does not just happen,” Dean insists.

“It’s not freaky,” I mutter under my breath. _That’s_ what I’m choosing to be annoyed by? My powers are totally freaky, and I know it.

“I do not think her continued involvement in the situation is a coincidence, but she was not responsible for any of the attacks, or the raising of the demon, and her telekinesis is irrelevant.”

“Wait, you _knew_ she was some kind of freak?” Dean’s voice kind of squeaks, as much as a voice that deep can, and he takes a step away from Cas. Cas turns his head back to stare at Dean, and does that little tilt with his head again.

“Her powers are irrelevant. They are neither inherently evil, nor dangerous, and her soul is clean.” Shit, I _knew_ he was looking into my soul. That is seriously fucking creepy. 

Dean shakes his head.

“Ok,” I say finally, and endure the extremely uncomfortable sensation of three pairs of eyes suddenly focused on me. “I get that you’re calling me a freak and all, but can we talk about how you’re shacked up with Mr. Teleport here? Hypocritical, much?”

They all stare at me silently for a beat.

“I am an angel of the Lord,” Cas informs me solemnly.

“And that, what, somehow makes you above suspicion?” 

The three men shift their eyes to glance at each other a little guiltily. Score one for me, I wouldn’t have really guessed that angels _weren’t_ above suspicion. That’s good to know, I guess.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam says finally. I give him what I hope is a scathing look.

“Why? Because, this?” I nod my head, because my hands are still tied up. “Well, not the being tied up part, but the suspicious looks? Being called a freak? Hunters wanting to kill me just because I was born with powers? Watching hunters kill _other_ people with powers? This is my entire life.”

I can see Sam melting. Dean a little bit, too; I’m glad he listens to his boyfriend. Although, angel boyfriend, isn’t that blasphemy or something? That’s weird.

“I wanted so bad to be normal, so I suffered through all of it. And when I finally get away? When I can finally pretend to not be a freak? The universe _still_ sends me motherfucking vampires! And then, cherry on top, some _hunters_ , too.” I’m ranting a little now, but this day has been too much, and I’m starting to lose it. In fact, I lose it so much I start nudging at the ropes around my wrists with my mind. Fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve tried to do this. Knots are complicated.

“Fine, so if she’s not causing any of this, she’s got to be involved somehow,” Dean insists. “Cas, what were you saying about her being here not being a coincidence?”

“I’m not,” I say, just as I pull the end of the rope out of the last knot. I shake out my wrists. I think I have rope burn. And a headache. Maybe a concussion. “Can I go?”

“No,” Sam and Dean both say at the same time.

Dean glares at me. “How’d you get loose?”

I roll my eyes. I notice that Sam does the same. Nice.

“I can move shit with my mind, dumbass. Ropes are not excluded.”

“Anyways, Judith, Cas and Dean are right. Even if you’re not directly responsible for raising Merihem, the evidence is piling up that you’re involved somehow,” Sam says gently. “And, uh, that last demon got away after he saw you attack one of them. If they think you’re with us, they’re going to come after you.”

I stare at him. No puppy dog eyes or perfect hair is going to make this up to me now.

“Fuck. My. Life.” I sink back into the chair and lean my head in my hands. Is that blood in my hair? Dean knocked me out, remember. “Can I take a shower? I think I have a concussion.” Because a shower would do wonders for a concussion.

I glance up, and nearly fall backwards out of the chair when I’m confronted by deep blue eyes that are entirely too close to my face.

“You do not have a concussion,” Cas concludes, his eyes never leaving mine. I don’t have any place else to look. Thankfully, Dean grabs Cas’s shoulder and moves him back a step.

“Dude, I know you don’t have to get that close to check for injuries,” Dean scolds, his voice lightly amused.

“Great. Shower?”

“Go ahead,” Sam waves towards the bathroom.

“I feel very uncomfortable,” I tell the room in general, and then get my ass into the bathroom. 

~~

Apparently there’s an apocalypse. I manage to drag the story out of Sam and Dean - Cas has disappeared again - after being thoroughly disgusted by what happens when two men share a skeezy motel bathroom. A Cliff’s Notes version of the story, at least, because there’s obviously parts that the brothers don’t want to tell, and I’m not really in the mood to hear.

The relevant part is that there are demons, and angels, and they all want an apocalypse for some reason, and Sam and Dean and Cas are trying to stop it. Good for them. And long story short, the murders that have been going on around the city - the vampire attacks on campus, killings by something called a “gnarl” in the Back Bay, maybe a harpy attack in Dorchester - have been to feed a demon called Merihem, who is rising from hell to assist Pestilence, one of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, in preparations for Lucifer’s final battle.

And I thought vampires were out of my league.

I wonder if I know anyone who can turn back time so I can go back to pre-Winchester times. I will totally, willingly, eagerly sacrifice the eye candy.

“So what now?” I finally ask, as I try to process a shitload of new information. Sam and Dean glance at each other.

“We gotta go after the demon,” Sam says quietly.

“Demons, right, great.” I’m babbling, but give me a break. “What about the other things? The vampires, and gnarls, and harpies, and whatever?”

“Oh.” Sam apparently forgot about those.

“Shit.” So had Dean.

“Shit, you’re right. Even if we take out Merihem, there’s no guarantee that will stop the rest of the creatures from turning the city into an all-you-can-eat buffet,” Sam groans.

“Glad I could lend my hunting expertise to this outfit, guys,” I drawl sarcastically. I this situation is turning me into kind of a bitch. Dean points a finger at me and glares down along its length.

“Apocalypse,” he reminds me with a raised eyebrow and a hint of humor. “Kind of a lot on our plates.”

I laugh.

Laughing feels good. I haven’t laughed all day. And bad at the same time, not just because it’s completely inappropriate, but because it makes me think that if there weren’t any demons, or monsters, or apocalypse, hanging out with these two wouldn’t be so bad. Sam is sweet, and smart, and he’s got that perfect hair that I’m so jealous of, and those expressive puppy-dog eyes. Dean is funny, and charming, and the corners of his eyes crinkle adorably when he smiles. Even Cas, with all his awkwardness and appearing and disappearing isn’t so bad. And the way that Dean and Cas act around each other is so sickeningly sweet it makes my heart melt as much as it makes me uncomfortable.

I cannot believe I am thinking this about _hunters_ , but they didn’t kill me or anything when they found out about my powers, which is a big bonus. I know people who haven’t been so lucky.

“We’ll split up,” Dean determines. “Sam, you can take out the vamps, me and Cas will handle the demon.”

“We should take out the demon first, then go after the monsters,” Sam protests. “And either way, we can’t just leave Judith here.”

“We can’t bring her.” Dean sounds horrified at the thought.

I hold up my hands. “I’ll stay here. I am not equipped to handle demons. Or vampires. Or anything else.” I’ll think about the whole turning back time issue.

“Judith,” Sam says grimly, “they could come after you. We don’t know what they want with you. It’ll be safer if you stay with us.” I just look at him. He seriously believes that attacking monsters will be _safer_ than sitting in a motel room?

“Lock the door.” I deadpan. I’m totally serious.

Dean shakes his head. “Fine, me and Cas will take out the demon, and Sam can stay here.” Sam doesn’t look too happy with this plan, either.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I argue, even though I’m liking this plan a little more. Nice, safe motel room, plus big, hot hunter to keep me safe.

Cas appears. I almost fall over, the whole popping in unannounced thing is just not normal. Sam and Dean barely blink.

“I have located the demon,” Cas announces. I guess that explains where he was. “We should act quickly, I doubt he will remain there long.”

“Right.” Dean grabs a bag that I had seen him fill with weapons a little while ago. “Let’s go, Cas.” He claps a hand to the angel’s shoulder as he strides towards the door.

“Sam?” Cas looks back.

“Sam’s going to take care of Jean Grey here,” Dean explains. Cas narrows his eyes and frowns, I’m assuming that frown means ‘confusion’, but he nods and follows Dean out the door.

“Wow, I don’t know if that’s cute or disturbing,” I say as the door closes after the couple.

“What? The X-men references?” Sam asks, checking the weapons left in the room.

“Power-couple off to save the world,” I clarify. Sam chuckles.

“Yeah, they’re kind of…” his voice trails off and his face make a face that looks oddly like Cas’s ‘confused’ frown. “But they’re not, uh…”

And that’s when demons attack.

Oh, two demons, and a vampire, and a gnarl. Ew, that’s what a gnarl is? Gross.

Sam knifes a demon, but the gnarl is on him, fast, simply raking claws over Sam’s arm and heading towards me next. The non-lethal move seems strange, but I’m concentrating on pinning the vampire against the wall and looking for something to finish him off with - look at me actually doing the Jean Grey thing, how badass is that. Not badass enough, though, because I can’t dodge the gnarl’s swipe at me and claws catch on my hand.

Oh, that’s why the gnarl wasn’t going for kill shots. I can’t move. Paralyzed.  I have a raging headache, but I test out my telekinesis anyway. I guess the paralysis is affecting more than just my body, or maybe I actually do have to move my body to get my powers to work? I’ve never tested it before. Anyways, I can move a few threads on the carpet directly in front of my face, but nothing beyond that.

I take back everything bad I have ever thought about Sam, though, because he is _still fighting_. But his movements are getting sluggish from the gnarl’s paralyzing claws, and the second demon just laughs as she lands a blow on over his head and he slumps into unconsciousness.

The vampire tosses me over his shoulder and carries me out of the room. It’s extremely disturbing to not be able to move. My lips don’t work, either, so talking is out, but at least I can still breathe. It’s the little things that count, I guess. The demon is dragging Sam - he’s about a foot and a half taller than her, it’s kind of hilarious - and the gnarl is just sort of skulking alongside.

We’re headed - oh, right next door. Well, three motel rooms over. Crack investigators these guys are, didn’t even notice the monsters holed up a few rooms over. I’m embarrassed for them.

Me and Sam are dumped on the floor. Being tied up in a chair surrounded by hunters is starting to seem like luxury now that I know what it’s like to be paralyzed on the floor surrounded by monsters. Oh, and the carpet in this room is just as disgusting as the one in the other room.

The demon is talking on a cell phone. I’ve never really thought about demons using cell phones. The gnarl is eyeing me like a snack and the vampire looks bored. When the gnarl starts creeping a little closer to me, the vampire cracks a fist down on his head.

“No snacking,” the vampire says flatly. The gnarl rubs his head and looks disgruntled. It’s a weird look on a monster. 

The demon peers down at Sam and smiles. I guess he’s regaining consciousness, but since I can’t see and he can’t move, it’s hard to tell.

“Hi, Sammy,” the demon taunts. There is a garbled sound that I guess is Sam trying to talk. “Don’t worry, boss is on his way,” the demon adds. I wonder what boss she’s talking about.

Oh god, I’m going to die. The thought didn’t really occur to me before, with all the fighting and the fatigue, but now that I have some time to just sit here, or lie here, I guess, and think, I’m realizing that oh god, I’m going to die. My dad is gonna be pissed.

I also realize that TV shows never show you the part of the kidnapping that involves waiting. Just sitting around, bored as hell, terrified out of your wits, needing to pee a little bit, and waiting for the demon’s boss to show up.

Even the monsters seem bored. They also don’t seem to like each other at all. The demon is tapping Sam’s knife on the table absently, the vampire is glaring at her like he’s contemplating just sinking his teeth into her to get the annoying tapping to stop, and they both seem as grossed out by the gnarl, who is picking his teeth with a claw, as I am.

When something does happen, it’s just a tap at the door and another demon poking his head in to whisper something to the first demon, and then shutting the door behind him.

It’s hours later before something _actually_ happens.

Unfortunately, that something is two vampires dragging a limp and bleeding Dean into the room.

Something fucked him up. He’s got long gashes down one side of his face and both arms, and they’re bleeding. A lot. An assortment of bruises are starting to darken, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some broken bones in there. I’ve had more than my fill of dead bodies, so I really hope he’s not dead.

The demon leaps up from her seat. Sam makes another garbled noise from the floor.

“What are you doing!” the demon shrieks. “You were supposed to kill him!”

Guess Dean isn’t dead, then.

The two vampires look at each other. Wow, they should do intelligence tests before turning people into vampires, because these two are clearly idiots.

The demon is _not_ an idiot. She has a gun, she aims it point blank at Dean’s head, and she squeezes the trigger - just as Dean rolls enough that the bullet nicks into the top of his shoulder instead of his head, and he can reach out an arm to slam something sharp into Sam’s leg.

“Surprise, bitch,” Dean mumbles weakly.

Sam lets out a huge gasping breath and _moves_. Shit, he can move now. Must have something to do with whatever Dean stuck in his leg. Can I get some of that too?

Clearly neither brother is thinking about me right now, though, because Dean is still limp on the floor, and Sam is surging up to fight. The monsters are visibly shaken, but are trying to regroup against the one-man attack.

The gnarl dies first. Thank god, seriously, who thought that something that grosses out even other monsters would be a good idea?  Also, with the gnarl dead, I can move again. Sweet.

Sam is struggling to hack the head off a vampire, and the demon is leaning down to pick her gun up from where it landed on the floor.

The knife, lying abandoned on the table where the demon had been playing with it, flies through the air and buries itself in the demon’s forehead. I earn a stabbing pain through my head and another dead body as a reward. 

The last vampire - the one who had attacked us with the demon - is backing towards the door. Dean reaches out and catches his ankle; the vampire stumbles.

The door of the room slams open.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice is not exactly emotional, but it’s definitely too loud and too deep to be stoic.

The vampire’s stumble carries him to bump right into Cas’ arm. The angel looks down at him as if annoyed by a pesky gnat, grabs the vampire’s hair, produces a knife in his other hand, and _slices_.

Note to self: don’t piss off angels.

Cas simply drops the head on the floor next to the crumpled body and leans down towards Dean. Dean blinks up at him.

“That was very foolish, Dean,” Cas says quietly. Dean huffs out a chuckle that turns into a cough. Cas touches two fingers gently to Dean’s forehead, and Dean closes his eyes, leaning in slightly to the almost-caress. And Dean is healed. The gashes close, the bruises fade, and Dean’s breathing eases.

I don’t care if I’m intruding, I am getting in on some of that healing action.

Sam pulls the knife out of the demon’s forehead, and quickly uses the demon’s shirt to wipe the blood off the blade. He gives me an impressed look, but I am way too worn out to preen.

“What happened?” Sam asks Cas, who is helping Dean off the floor. The couple stands just a little too close together, almost touching but not quite, as if using the proximity to assure themselves that the other is unharmed.

Cas shrugs uncomfortably and looks down at the floor. “Merihem is after her.” He nods at me.

I don’t even have the energy to groan anymore. My head is killing me.

“So, we were right,” Dean says, with a wink at Sam. So not ok that they’re bonding over a demon trying to kill me. Dean’s face gets a little more serious as he explains, “Something about consuming ‘gifted ones’ and assimilating their powers. When we figured it out, the harpy attacked us, and I figured if I let them capture me, they would take me to wherever they had you.” Dean shrugs.

“Dean, they could have killed you!” Sam shouts, eyes wide with distress.

“Yes, that was very foolish, Dean,” Cas adds. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “You said that already. Hey, it all worked out, plus we got to test out the whole harpy-claw neutralizing gnarl poison theory. That’s probably why they had the harpy around in the first place. So let’s just get over it and move on. There’s still a demon bastard out there looking for super-powered snack.” I don’t want to be a snack.

“You guys are all fucking crazy.” Again, it’s extremely uncomfortable to have three intense sets of eyes focus all their attention on you.

~~

So, you know how in the movies, the hero pull the damsel in distress to safety and then just sort of set her off to the side to watch while he fights the big boss monster? Even though the damsel is totally badass and just survived a goddamned monster attack? Yeah, apparently that shit happens in real life, too. I’m given some weapons, and holy water, and salt, and told to sit tight while the big bad men go off to fight the demon. Not that I want to fight a demon, but hey, I just knifed a bitch _with my mind_ , can I get a little respect over here?

Ok, I suppose it’s the knifing a demon with my freaky brain powers that convinces the hunters its ok to leave me on my own, and when it comes down to the actual demon fighting part, I’m still stuck at nope. So I move back to the old, equally grimy but less filled with dead monster bits, room, and sit tight with my weapons while the big bad men go off to fight the demon.

I assume they beat it, because they come back a few hours later and they’re not dead. They look exhausted and worse for wear, though. Sam raggedly calls dibs on the shower, Cas sits perfectly straight at the end of the bed, and Dean flops down on the bed and slings his feet over Cas’ lap. Cas glances down at the feet, but says nothing. I sit quietly in my chair.

Dean’s voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “Hey, sorry.”

I look over and the bright green eyes are looking back at me. I don’t have to ask what he’s sorry for.

“I could have died.” It’s the first time I said it out loud.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean pauses, collecting his thoughts. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

I want to blame him, and Sam, too, I really do. “It’s not your fault. They were after me, anyway.”

“Yeah, but,” Dean closes his eyes, but I can still see the pain in them, “It’s just, everyone who gets close to us gets hurt. They probably would never have found you if we just left you alone.”

Cas rests his hand over Dean’s leg, comforting, looking down at his partner with compassion. The sight makes me want help, to argue with Dean, to tell him that they were getting closer to me with all the killings in my own dorm, that the hunters had actually saved my life.

“But you didn’t,” is all I say. “And I’m still alive.” 

Dean opens his eyes and almost smiles at me.

I look down, and say what’s really on my mind, “ _You_ could have killed me.”

Dean sits straight up, swinging his legs off Cas’ lap, and gapes at me.

“What?

“That’s what hunters do, isn’t it? Kill the supernatural?” I frown at him.

“But you’re not - oh, geez.” Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I kind of freaked out when I found out about your powers, but we don’t kill _people_.”

“That’s not been my experience,” I say quietly, meeting his eyes coolly. I can see guilt there.

“I am supernatural,” Cas chimes in.

“Can you even die?” I am genuinely curious. Judging from the frown on the angel’s face, I’m guessing the answer is no.

“The Winchesters do not kill the supernatural,” Cas goes on, ignoring the question. “They fight evil. They believed in me, even though my kind has done nothing to warrant such trust.” Cas is looking at Dean now, their eyes meeting in another one of those uncomfortable, meaningful looks.

“Yeah, but he loves you,” I argue, even though I don’t know why I’m arguing. I’m kind of arguing in favor of them killing me. I think I just want to be right. I’m surprised when they both jerk away from their stare and look back at me. Cas gulps and Dean shifts uncomfortably. Shit, I just assumed from all the public displays of intimacy that they had already done the whole ‘I love you’ thing, but maybe they haven’t gotten there yet. Men and their emotional constipation.

“We’re not going to kill you, Judith,” a soft voice says from behind me. Sam is dressed in jeans but no shirt - oh my god - and toweling off his wet, perfect hair. I stare at him, partly just to stare, because, oh my god, and partly because, yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

“All of this? The stopping the apocalypse thing? It’s about being able to choose.” Sam’s voice is quiet, but full of passion. “Maybe you were given a certain lot in life, maybe someone tries to tell you what you’re supposed to end up being, or doing, but in the end it’s up to you. It’s a choice.”

“Evil is always a choice,” Dean adds. I wonder what choices the brothers made to add that rough, painful edge to their voices. Cas lays a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder again, and Dean leans into the touch. Not in love, my ass.

I never, never thought that I would hear words like that out of a hunter’s mouth. Even with all the proof in front of me, that these men and their angel are different, I can’t believe it.

What Sam’s saying is the truth, it’s the truth I grew up knowing and believing in. I also grew up believing that hunters only see in black and white, that supernatural equal a death sentence out here in the world. But, at the same time, I believed that that couldn’t be true, that people have to be able see the shades of gray and understand that choices are more important than biology, or fate, or whatever. I believed in that so much that I left home and came here.

And now the proof is staring me in the face.

“I know someone who can give you answers,” I hear myself saying, and curse my mouth that, once again, is not listening to my brain. Maybe it’s listening to my heart. Fuck, I’m mushy.

“What?” Dean narrows his eyes at me.

I really, really shouldn’t be doing this.

“You have questions, right? About how you can stop the apocalypse?”

“You’re saying you know someone who knows how to stop the apocalypse?” Sam sounds torn between incredulous and hopeful.

“No, I know someone who has _answers_.” That’s not much clearer, I know. The person I am talking about is really, really going to hate me for bringing him up at all. “It’s up to you to ask the right questions.”

I don’t want the world to end, so I go against my instincts and tell them where to go.

“Thanks,” Sam tells me when I leave. His hazel eyes are full of sincerity. I think it’s my favorite look in them so far.

~~

I don’t hate vampires any less.

Maybe I hate hunters a little less than before.

I stand under the spray of the shower and let the water run over my hair and wash away the grime of the past couple of days. I continue my list.

I can add gnarls and demons to the list of things I hate. Also, dead bodies. Definitely hate dead bodies.

The girls at the dorm seem to buy my barely plausible explanation of why I had run off after finding Angela’s body, and so did the police when I went in for an unavoidable informal questioning. As promised by Sam, though, no more than brief questioning.

I must look like hell, because everyone is being a little nicer to me than usual.

Showers are awesome. So are non-motel beds.

Just as I drift off to sleep I plead with the universe one more time: no more motherfucking vampires. Never. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! This is my first fanfic, and I had a lot of fun with it. I'm hoping to write a follow-up piece that is full of feelings and Dean-Cas love.
> 
> I'm looking to pick up a few new works to beta, so if you'd like a beta reader for your work, please contact me!
> 
> Say hi on [Tumblr](http://jailikechai.tumblr.com)


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